Zildafontahexazist
by SheDreamsOfWorlds
Summary: When the 10th Doctor and Martha stop for lunch on Zildafontahexazist, an unexpected ingredient threatens their friendship.  This is inspired by the classic cliches, 'Sex Pollen' meets 'Shag or Die'.  1st in 10/Martha/Jack Series
1. Mono

Zildafontahexazist

By SheDreamsOfWorlds

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Chapter 1

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"You're gonna love Zildafontahexazist," the Doctor said excitedly as he opened the TARDIS door and stepped out onto a wide blue plain under a shimmering orange sky. "They've managed to forge treaties with just about every nation in five galaxies. It's quite a feat and all very boring, but it means that just about every trade caravan in those five galaxies makes its way through the Hexazist Market. They say if you can't find it on Zildafontahexazist…" The Doctor spun suddenly bringing Martha up short and fixed her with a daffy grin. "…it doesn't exist!"

"Really!" Martha said, "Well, let's go then!"

The Doctor grabbed her hand and towed her over a rise to reveal a huge city in the distance, laid out in a hexagon with a single large building centered at the hub. The rest of the city appeared to be filled with tents and canopies, each segment a different color. Fountains of every color dotted the market.

"Wow, that's brilliant!" Martha said breathlessly. "It's so huge! And you say that's just the market?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor said. "And it's all quite organized. You see, each color denotes a separate district. Yellow for hardware, Green for food and medicine, and Blue for clothing, jewelry, and the like. Then there's Purple for entertainment, the Red District of course, and Orange for transportation. Of course there's a certain amount of crossover. For instance, if you were looking to buy groceries, you'd head for the Green, but there're also restaurants and food stands in the Purple. You'll find bargains toward the outskirts, and things get more posh toward the center, you see?"

"But wait, Doctor, what's in the Red District? You skipped right over it," Martha accused.

The Doctor raised one eyebrow.

Martha shook her head, not understanding. "Well?"

The Doctor raised his other eyebrow as well and fixed her with a _look_.

Martha flushed. "Oh."

"Some things are universal," the Doctor stated. "You want to stay clear of there. Not safe."

"Of course, you parked us right near it," Martha said. "Just can't stay away from trouble can you?"

"Well if I'd parked it on the other side, you'd have missed out on the view! Don't worry, we'll take the long way around," the Doctor said. "See, we'll just cut through the Orange District, give you a chance to see how everyone else gets around. Not everyone can have a TARDIS," he said smugly.

Martha snorted.

"Then it's on to the Yellow. I've got to pick up a few parts for the ol' girl, and then we are free to browse the rest!"

"Sounds great," Martha said.

As they approached the Hexazist Market, the quiet hum of the crowds grew to a loud chatter. Martha could see now that the Orange District was not colored so much by its tents, but by its array of rockets and hovering crafts, most of which were orange.

"Wow, people must really like orange rockets. It's not nearly so popular for motors at home," Martha commented.

"It's the Zildian Diva, you see. She got so popular, they renamed the planet Zildafontahexazist in her honor. Used to just be called Zist until hexagons got so bloody popular. Then it was Hexazist 'till they discovered fountains and became Fontahexazist, you see? They tend to get quite carried away. They've got fountains for everything and I don't just mean liquids; gem fountains, coin fountains, even got one for spare engine parts. Quite noisy as you can imagine. Personally I liked the sound of Zist. Zist. It's _zesty_."

"What's that got to do with the rockets?" Martha asked.

"What color do you think _her_ ship is?" the Doctor asked.

"Orange, hmm?" Martha answered.

"Oh, yes…along with her hair and her eyes. She started a whole trend. Everywhere you look you'll see people with their hair dyed to the point of disintegration. Look at that bloke there!" The Doctor nodded toward an overweight man with thinning orange hair who was examining some sort of gadget.

"Oh my God, I can see his scalp!" Martha laughed. "You're telling me, even thousands of years in the future, millions of miles from Earth, they still haven't managed to make hair dye that doesn't fry your hair?"

"U-ni-versal," the Doctor said in a sing-song voice. He spun to the right suddenly. "Ah, here we are!" As they talked, they had passed into the Yellow district. He bounded over to a stall filled with small bits of oddly shaped stone. Martha waited patiently as he sniffed them and tested them with his teeth. "These will do quite nicely."

After buying the parts, they spent a nice morning browsing the shops and taking in shows. The sun was high in the sky when Martha's stomach finally rumbled.

"You hungry yet, Doctor?" Martha asked.

"Well sure, I suppose." He looked around before spotting the sign for Henda's Hexcafe. The Doctor grabbed Martha's hand and pulled her toward a small building with purple awnings. "This is just the place. You're gonna love it! The last time I was here, in about fifty years, they had this spicy chocolate pastry…I do hope they've invented it already. We might be too soon." He looked doubtful for a moment. "Ah, never mind. We'll manage!"

"Chocolate pastries? Some things really are universal," Martha laughed. They stepped inside the cool building to see what would have looked like any other café on Earth, if the tables and chairs were carved from orange and lime spotted stone, and covered not just the floor but the walls and ceiling as well. People chattered happily in their seats above Martha's head, giving her a wave of vertigo.

"Steady on," the Doctor said, taking a hold of her elbow. "Helps if you just focus on the ground."

"How do they…?" Martha asked, gesturing toward the people walking across the walls.

"Positive Gravity Field Manipulation," the Doctor answered as he pulled her through the crowd. "Don't worry, I'll get us seats on the ground floor. Eating sideways is _not_ for beginners."

"Oh my God, what if one of them pukes?" Martha asked, gesturing upward. "Is it gonna land on our heads?"

The Doctor laughed. "No, no, it lands at their own feet like normal."

"Normal," Martha laughed.

"C'mon then, allons-y!" They took a seat and ordered from the glowing menu screen in the center of the table. In only a few minutes a robotic cart delivered their lunch.

"Oh, this is splendid!" the Doctor said with glee as he chewed his first bite of pastry.

Martha eyed her salad a bit more cautiously. "D'you reckon it's safe? Shouldn't you like, scan it or something?"

"What ever for?" the Doctor asked.

"Y'know, for compatibility!" Martha pointed out. "Don't want to find myself sick with some alien bug."

"Look around. There's plenty of human types here. I'm sure it's fine," the Doctor said.

"There's plenty of humans in Mexico; doesn't mean I can drink the water," Martha pointed out.

"Are you hungry or not?" the Doctor asked.

"Point taken," Martha conceded and took her first bite. "Well, it tastes good!"

"See? But you should really try this!" The Doctor waved his pastry in her direction, narrowly missing her with a glob of filling.

"Oi! Watch it, you!" Martha laughed and reached for the menu panel. "I'll get one to go."

"Mm, order me another as well. We really should have a supply of these on board the TARDIS!" The doctor was lost in a dreamy haze of spicy chocolate filling. Their pastries arrived packed in a wicker canister just as the Doctor was licking the last of the filling from his fingers with relish. They were just standing to don their coats when a shudder rolled through the Doctor's body, leaving him leaning heavily on the table.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" Martha asked with concern.

The Doctor blinked heavily. "Something's wrong. We have to get back to the TARDIS." He grabbed her arm and began towing her through the crowd.

"Wait, Doctor! This is the wrong way!" Martha tugged ineffectually at her arm. "This way leads through the Red District!"

"Never mind that! We have to hurry!" The Doctor increased his grip and all but dragged Martha through the crowd.

Martha had no choice but to hurry in his wake. She had the sinking feeling that if she lost her footing, he'd literally drag her along. The Doctor was shaking quite badly now. He looked back at her briefly and she realized with a sinking heart that his pupils were dilated. She'd spent enough time in an emergency room during her training to recognize the signs. The good Doctor had been drugged.

Martha tried again to free herself from his grip, for in this state he was a danger even to her, but it was too late. They'd passed into the Red District. The sun suddenly seemed a bit colder and the tents a bit less kind. Though the crowds were thick, there was not a woman in sight. They were all hidden away, working in the tents, Martha assumed.

She stopped struggling, not wanting to draw attention to herself, but the Doctor was doing enough of that on his own, the way he was shoving his way through the crowds. That earned them quite a few glares which quickly turned to leers as they caught sight of Martha. She pressed herself closer to the Doctor. He may have not been the safest companion in his current state, but it was better the devil you know, as they say.

"Hey, how much?"

"Didn't know they came in colors…"

"Where'd you find that one?"

"Good looking, though…"

"Never seen one like that before…"

Martha flushed and ducked her head down as she tried to block out the comments. The grasping hands were a bit more difficult to block out. Martha whacked a few with the pastry canister she still had clutched in her hand. Then she found herself being dragged backward by bold hands, even as the Doctor continued to pull her forward. Martha lost her footing and went down.

"Doctor!" Martha cried. "Doctor, help!"

It took a moment for her voice to reach him through his drug-fogged brain, but then the Doctor spun with his sonic screwdriver in hand. It emitted a sound she'd never heard from it before; a sound that seemed to pierce directly into her brain. The crowd around them fell to the ground clutching their heads. Martha felt as if her ears were bleeding. She was still reeling when the Doctor grabbed her around the waist and tucked her under one arm as if she were an unruly child.

A moment later, he broke through the crowd, out of the Hexazist Market, and onto the grassy blue plains. He was halfway to the TARDIS when Martha recovered enough to renew her struggles. She managed to twist around in his hold enough to whack him in the face with the canister, startling him into letting her go.

The Doctor glanced at her briefly, and Martha saw that his pupils were now blown wide open. Whatever bit of reason he'd had in him was gone now. Then the Doctor turned away and headed for the TARDIS. Martha sat in the wispy blue grass for a moment, torn with indecision as he disappeared inside.

It would be dangerous to follow him in his current condition. People under the influence of drugs were dangerous to those around them. They were often unable to distinguish friend from foe, and the Doctor had faced many deadly enemies in his long years. On the other hand, Martha was a doctor as well as his friend, and the thought of him alone with some unknown toxin in him was terrifying. What if he needed help and she wasn't there?

The distinctive sound of the TARDIS powering up made her decision for her. She definitely didn't want to be left behind! Martha raced across the plain and dove through the door just before it dematerialized.


	2. Di

Zildafontahexazist

By SheDreamsOfWorlds

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Chapter 2

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The door of the TARDIS slammed shut behind Martha, startling her. She climbed cautiously to her feet and looked around, not seeing the Doctor at first. She found him sitting slumped at the base of the control panel.

"Doctor! Are you all right?" she asked, rushing forward.

The Doctor shook his head. "I feel quite odd…I can't remember…" he trailed off and closed his eyes. "My head is positively spinning."

"C'mon, Doctor. Let's get you into bed." Martha helped the Doctor to his feet and supported him through the corridors to his quarters.

"The chocolate. It's got to be the chocolate…" The Doctor closed his eyes.

"Don't worry, Doctor," Martha said as she removed his trainers and covered him with a blanket. "I'll get to the bottom of this."

Martha retrieved the canister of pastries from where she'd dropped it in the control room and took it to the infirmary. It was a bit worse for wear after being used as a makeshift weapon. The hard wicker sides were broken and bent in places. After a bit of wrestling, Martha managed to get the lid off to reveal a sticky mess of smashed pastries.

"Don't think I'll be touching these," Martha muttered as she donned a pair of gloves. She carefully placed a sample on the scanner and set the computer to analyze its chemical composition. A list of unfamiliar substances appeared on the screen. Martha set the computer to cross reference with chemicals known to affect Gallifreyan biology and the list narrowed down to one substance.

"Let's see…Phorillian Pollen. Known effects include increased appetite, increased libido, euphoria, hallucinations, dizziness, rage, seizures, and death. Oh, great. Effects last _two to ten hours_, depending on dosage. Thanks, that's helpful. Oh, wait, do I wish to prepare anti-toxin? Yes!"

Martha felt a prickling on the back of her neck and turned to see the Doctor in his socks and rumpled brown suit, swaying in the doorway.

"Rose, I'm sorry," the Doctor said.

Martha cautiously put the cot between herself and the Doctor. "Doctor, it's me, Martha. Rose isn't here. You really should be in bed. You've been drugged, but your medicine will be done in…15 minutes. You just have to hold on!"

"I'm sorry, Rose, but it's got to be done," the Doctor said. He came forward, circling the cot toward her. "They'll kill us if we don't comply."

Martha kept the cot between them. "What has got to be done?" she asked with a sinking feeling.

"The Traxiums abolished the practice a hundred years ago. I had no idea fertility ceremonies had made a comeback. I never would have brought you here," he said, his heart in his eyes.

"We are on the _TARDIS_, Doctor, not on planet Trax or Traxia or whatever. There _is no ceremony_!" Martha said, backing away.

"Terelax," he corrected.

"Thanks," Martha replied sarcastically.

"I'm _so_ sorry," the Doctor continued. "I never wanted it to happen this way."

"_Nothing_ is happening between you and me, Doctor. No way," Martha said firmly. "Especially with you drugged, and _especially_ with you calling me _her_ name. I'd rather die." With that, Martha turned and ran out the door. She raced down the hall, through the control room, and flung open the door to the TARDIS. Before her whirled the ruby swirls of the time vortex.

"Oh, no," she said backing away. "Oh, _no_!" She turned to see the Doctor standing there silently. "Doctor, you've got to land us somewhere. Anywhere! The anti-toxin will never finish its preparation in a place without time."

"There's only one way out for us, Rose," the Doctor insisted.

"I told you, no! I'd rather die than have you bed me, calling her name," Martha said.

The Doctor's face turned bitter and angry. "I've lived too long. I won't die just because you're feeling _squeamish_ today. The Traxiums have got ways of blocking my regeneration, you know. Over nine hundred years and it'll all end in a second…No. Not today," he growled as he grabbed her and brought his face close. "Besides, isn't this what you've been wanting, all this time? Just waiting for me to say, sure! Let's have a go!"

Martha felt tears start in the corners of her eyes. He may have thought he was talking to Rose, but his words couldn't have been more tailored to hurt her.

"You're not my Doctor. He'd never say these things. He'd never do this to me," Martha cried.

"I guess you don't know me as well as you thought," the Doctor answered and captured her mouth in a rough kiss.

"No!" Martha wrenched herself away, crying in earnest now. "This isn't _real_, Doctor!" She brought her boot down on his socked foot and wrenched herself away. Half blinded by tears, she grabbed the nearest railing and ran up the spiral stairs to the wardrobe area.

The Doctor had the advantage with his long legs. He was able to take the steps three at a time behind her and catch her ankle just as she reached the top, sending her sprawling on the grate.

"No. _No!_" Martha rolled over and kicked free of his hold long enough to scramble to her feet and back away, breathing heavily. The Doctor stood for a moment, blocking the only staircase down. She was just starting to relax, thinking the Doctor had broken through his hallucination, when he rushed her suddenly, sending her tumbling through a rack of suits.

They fought, tangled in fallen clothes. He caught her with a few blows across the face that left her head reeling. He was serious. He wasn't going to just pop up with a laugh and say, "Well, that was fun! How about a nice trip to the fourth moon of Felundra?" He really meant to have her, whether or not she consented.

Their struggle took them out of the clothes and back onto the walkway. The Doctor hauled Martha to her feet, shoved her against the wall and tore at her clothes with grim purpose.

"Doctor, please stop! It's me, Martha!" she cried as she pushed at his face. "We're on the TARDIS! It's not real! We're on the _TARDIS_!"

Martha felt his hands close around her throat, shutting her up. Her world began to turn white around the edges and she knew she was in deep trouble. Her vision narrowed until all she could see was the manic expression on his face. Her hands scrabbled about her, searching for something, anything to save her life.

Her hands found a short length of pipe from the destroyed rack that had gotten caught in the collar of a hanging coat. With all the desperation of a woman on the edge of death, Martha brought the pipe down on the Doctor's head. His eyes widened in surprise as he let her go and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Martha sucked in air with a gasp as she felt herself falling sideways. There was just enough time for a scream to tear itself from her throat before she felt her body slamming down the hard metal staircase. Then all was black.

* * *

Martha awoke some time later with pain echoing in every bone in her body. She didn't know how long she'd been sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, but it only took a moment to remember how she'd gotten there. A quick glance up revealed the Doctor's still form lying on the grate overhead. At least she'd managed to brain him better than she'd brained herself, she thought.

She hauled herself slowly to her feet, hissing when she tried to put weight on her right leg. Her knee was badly swollen. Martha limped as quietly as she could to the controls. She didn't know how to pilot the TARDIS, but she did know how to activate Emergency Protocol One, the program to take her home. The TARDIS landed with a shudder and a thump, and Martha breathed a sigh of relief. Now chemical processes would be affected by time and the anti-toxin could finish preparation.

By the time Martha dragged herself to the infirmary, she only had to wait a couple minutes before the sound of a bell, like an old-fashioned microwave, signified that the anti-toxin was complete. The door of the fabricator slid open to reveal a small vial of glowing milky liquid loaded in an injection gun.

Martha wished she had time to tend her own injuries. She was bruised and swollen and had quite a bit of blood on her hands, but she couldn't risk the Doctor waking up and resuming his hallucination-fueled mission. Martha began the slow and painful process of dragging herself back through the corridors, across the control room, and up the spiral stairs.

The Doctor had barely shifted from his position on the grate. Martha's heart hammered in her chest as she approached him. She kept expecting him to leap up and grab her like some sort of horror movie, but he didn't. He slept the sleep of the concussed while she administered the injection to the side of his neck.

Weariness crashed down around her and it was all Martha could do to crawl to the pile of fallen suits and lay down before she passed out.


	3. Tri

Zildafontahexazist

By SheDreamsOfWorlds

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Chapter 3

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The Doctor became slowly aware of his surroundings. He was lying on the grated floor of his TARDIS. The scent of wool told him he was in the wardrobe, and the throbbing in his head told him something bad had happened. A scream echoed in his memory, causing him to bolt upright.

"Martha!" he gasped. It only took a moment for his vision to stop spinning, but that was all he needed for his memory to come rushing back at him. It seemed cruel that a race as long-lived as the Gallifreyans should be cursed with such good memories. He had two sets of memories superimposed on one another.

He recalled being trapped on Terelax with Rose, with participation in a fertility ritual their only escape. He also remembered Martha begging him to stop as he tore at her clothes. He had the sinking feeling he knew which set of memories was true. The last he'd seen of her before blacking out, she'd been tumbling down the stairs.

"Martha," the Doctor breathed. He peered over the edge of the walkway, but didn't see her at the bottom of the stairs. After a moment, he was able to stand and make his way down with much help from the railing. Tears coursed down his face as he remembered hitting her, wrapping his hands around her neck and squeezing.

He made his way unsteadily to the screen on the control panel and hit the commands to locate all life forms on board. Two blinking dots appeared on the TARDIS schematic; one where he was standing, and one only ten feet to the right.

"Come on," he growled, pounding his fist on the panel. "This is no time for glitches!" There was no one in the control room where the second dot indicated. The Doctor went to the indicated spot, then crouched down to peer through the floor grates. He didn't see anything, but it was dark down there. Perhaps she'd crawled into the storage to hide herself from him. He lifted the grate and flashed his sonic screwdriver for light. There was nothing there but a box of junk marked 'S'. No Martha.

"Perhaps you should have had me look under 'M'," the Doctor growled. "Daft machine!"

That only left one place if the TARDIS was correct. He looked at the walkway above, but all he could see was a pile of clothes. The very one where he'd believed he could save his own wretched life by beating one of his best mates into submission. The Doctor wanted nothing more than to hide from his actions, but the thought of Martha hurt, possibly dying, spurred him forward. He climbed back up the spiral staircase and cautiously approached the pile of clothing.

"Martha?" His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears. The figure lying propped against the wall was almost unrecognizable. The entire left side of her face was horribly swollen and covered in blood from a wound hidden somewhere beneath her hair. The Doctor sat down heavily. He gathered her in his arms and pressed his cheek against her forehead. His tears mingled with the blood on her face, washing tiny rivulets clean. "Martha? Have I killed you, Martha?" he asked brokenly.

After a long moment, a raspy voice answered, "You called me Martha." The Doctor turned her with shaking hands and looked at her face. Martha looked back at him through her good eye. "Are you back, Doctor?"

"Yes," the Doctor cried, rocking her gently. "I'm back, and I'm going to take care of you." They sat for a long time, each lost in their thoughts.

After what seemed like hours, Martha broke the silence. "Is our dramatic moment almost over?" she rasped out. "I think I need an ice pack…and a lozenge."

The Doctor laughed through his tears. "That's what I like about you. Ever the practical approach." He helped Martha to her feet. "I'm afraid you'll have to walk down the steps, spiral staircases not being conductive to heroic rescues."

Martha winced as he helped her up. "Heroic rescue," she scoffed. "I should say, I rescued _you_…from the clutches of an evil pastry!"

The Doctor gave her a pained look. "So you did. What say we just leave this one out of the official memoir?"

They slowly and painfully maneuvered their way down the narrow spiral stairs. "What I wouldn't give for a proper lift right now," Martha said as they paused for a moment halfway down.

"Always meant to put one in," the Doctor said apologetically. "Things tend to lose their urgency when one quite literally has all the time in the world."

Martha was just about to comment when she was interrupted by a heavy pounding echoing through the room. Her face turned ashen. "Oh, no!" she said.

"Martha? Martha, what is it? Where have you landed us?" the Doctor asked urgently.

Martha shook her head. "We have to get out of here," she whispered. "If they see us, they'll skin you alive! There'll be no chance of talking your way out of this one."

"How on Earth did you manage to get the coordinates to Slarn, of all places?" the Doctor asked incredulously.

"It's not Slarn," Martha said, her eyes riveted on the door in horror. "It's much worse."

"Worse? Don't tell me, not Plada-Gerule Prime?"

"On Plada-Gerule Prime you'd stand a chance," Martha said hoarsely, clutching his shirt. "No, Doctor, it's…it's…"

"Spit it out, woman!"

"It's my family!"

The Doctor looked at Martha's swollen face. "Emergency Protocol One," he whispered in horror. "We've got to get out of here!" He gently lowered Martha to sit on the steps, then scrambled the rest of the way down to the control panel. He frantically pushed buttons and pulled levers until the central column began its rhythmic light show.

"Hold on!" the Doctor cried as the TARDIS lurched, sending him sprawling. Martha slid down the last few steps and clutched the stair rails. A few sparks shot into the air and then the TARDIS settled with a thud.

The Doctor returned to Martha. "Alright?" he asked. Martha nodded. "How about that lift then?" He scooped her up and headed for the corridor to the infirmary. They were almost out of the control room when they heard the distinctive sound of a key turning in the door lock.

"Bloody hell!" the Doctor cursed, turning around.

The door banged open to reveal a dark figure holding a tank with a severed hand, outlined against the sun.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," the Doctor growled at the TARDIS. "I set you to random and in all the universe, you take me to bloody Cardiff?"

* * *

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_Author's note: I could have turned this chapter into an angst fest with Martha flinching every time __the Doctor came near and the Doctor beating himself to a guilty pulp, but that was just too cliché for my taste (today, lol). Besides, I think Martha's stronger than that, don't you? That's not to say they came away unscathed. Oh, no._


	4. Tetra

Zildafontahexazist

By SheDreamsOfWorlds

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Chapter 4

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The shadowy figure stepped into the control room, resolving into a handsome man dressed in a long military coat.

"Jack!" the Doctor greeted jovially. "I'd love to chat, but I'm quite busy right now." He turned and carried Martha down the corridor to the infirmary, leaving Jack to scramble after them.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Jack said. "You don't get to just brush me off. You left me behind! Abandoned me on the GameStation with nothing but a hundred corpses to keep me company!" He thunked the tank down on the counter angrily.

"Is that my hand?" the Doctor asked. He paused for a moment to peer through the glass. "Oh, I've missed you!"

"Damn it, Doctor, I've waited over a hundred years for you to come back!"

The Doctor barely glanced at Jack as he bustled about, cleansing the blood from Martha's face.

Jack finally noticed her. "And I see you still haven't learned to take proper care of your friends," he said. The Doctor shot him a dark look. "What was it this time, Cybermen? Daleks? Or do you just cut to the chase and do the damage yourself now?"

Martha didn't know half of what this 'Jack' was on about, but she saw the Doctor become very still. "Judoon," she cut in hoarsely. "Bloody rhinos think they run the universe."

The Doctor swallowed thickly and patted her shoulder.

"Yeah, those Judoon can be nasty characters," Jack said, staring into the Doctor's eyes.

The Doctor broke his gaze to look down at Martha. "I'm going to put you out for a bit. Got some damage to your ears that needs mending."

"Yeah, I bet," Martha agreed dubiously, but she relaxed back on the cot and let the Doctor inject her with a sedative. In seconds she was unconscious. The Doctor began the delicate process of irrigating the dried blood from her ears and healing the damaged caused by his sonic screwdriver.

"It's scary how easily you get people to trust you," Jack said, staring intently at Martha's still form as he began pacing in the confines of the tiny infirmary. "_I_ trusted you." He stopped suddenly and faced the Doctor. "I _trusted_ you! We _fought_ together. Saved the _world_ together. I would have _died_ for you. I _did_ die for you, and you just threw me away like a piece of _garbage_!"

The Doctor's hands stilled their work and he bowed his head. "I meant to come back for you," he said quietly. "I knew what had been done to you, and it grated; like nails on a chalkboard." He looked up with pained eyes. "Like a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards. That's how your…immortality feels. In here." He pointed at his head.

"I kept telling myself, 'Just get over it. He's your friend. It's not his fault, what happened. Go back, five seconds after the battle, and he'll never know you were gone.'"

The Doctor bowed his head again. "But here you are in the past, over a hundred years later for you, angry at me and with every right. And that means I never went back for you, in all my cowardly life." The Doctor gave a small laugh and was surprised to realize he was crying. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I fool myself sometimes, gallivanting around in a time machine. Think I have all the time in the world. But I don't, not really. Time lines converge, doors close."

Both men were silent for a while. The Doctor moved around to the top of Martha's head and began searching for the wound that had made such a mess.

"Canary Wharf," Jack eventually said. "I was sorry to hear about Rose."

The Doctor's hands stopped and his shoulders slumped. Then he looked up with a sudden grin. "Alive. Sealed off in an alternate dimension along with her mom and Mickey," he said.

"She lived!" Jack laughed hysterically. "She's alive!" He grabbed the Doctor and spun him around with glee. Then he stopped and looked intently at the Doctor. "But this dimension, is it a good place?" he asked.

"Not so different from here," the Doctor shrugged. "She's got her dad there though. Didn't die when she was a girl like in this world."

"That's good," Jack said, settling down. He released the Doctor's shoulders and stepped back awkwardly. "Good for her." He hopped up on the counter and began fiddling with the dermal mender.

The Doctor returned to his examination of Martha's scalp. "Has it been so very bad? Have you got people here?"

"Yeah, not so bad. I got a nice team going. It's not so fun as in the old days, with you and Rose, but they're mine," Jack answered.

"Ah, here it is! The sly little bugger," the Doctor said suddenly. "Toss me that dermal mender, and for goodness sake, don't botch the calibration!"

Jack tossed the tool and the Doctor caught it deftly. It made a buzzing sound as it closed the shallow gash on the top of Martha's head. The Doctor tossed it back when he was done.

Jack caught it was a sigh, "Almost feels like old times."

The Doctor smiled. "It does, doesn't it?" He moved around to Martha's right leg and gently pushed her pant leg up above her knee.

Jack hissed in sympathy at the swollen joint. "Those Judoon don't play around," he said.

"No," the Doctor said absently, "they just do whatever they want, don't they, and damn the consequences to everyone around them." He peered closely at the joint. "Not much I can do with this as it is. Got to get the swelling down first."

"You got a gadget for that?" Jack asked, looking around.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said with a smile. "Ice. I'll only be a moment. Keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't, oh, I don't know, roll off the bed."

"Sure thing," Jack said as the Doctor disappeared into the hall. He sat on the counter, looking around for a moment before picking up a battered wicker canister and peering inside curiously. "Ooh, donuts!" He grabbed one of the squashed pastries and hopped down to get a closer look at the Doctor's new companion. Well, the half of her face that wasn't puffy and purple was certainly attractive, he thought as he took a bite. Spicy chocolate spread across his tongue.

A shadow on her neck caught his eye. He gently tugged the collar of her shirt aside with one finger as he took another bite. His chewing stilled for a moment. "Always secrets," he muttered.

He shoved the last piece of pastry in his mouth and resumed his place on the counter just as the Doctor returned with bags of ice. The Doctor carefully iced her knee. "Need a hand with that?" Jack offered.

"Sure," the Doctor answered. He handed Jack the smaller ice pack, and Jack carefully pressed it to her face.

"So where'd you pick this one up?" Jack asked.

The Doctor smiled. "The moon, oddly enough."

"Daedalus Lunar Colonies?" Jack asked, his eyebrows rising.

"No, actually, she's from this time." He smiled fondly. "She's a doctor, you know."

"Beautiful and brilliant, you better watch out, Doctor," Jack teased. "She might just capture those withered old hearts of yours."

The Doctor shot him a dark look.

"Well, if you're not interested…" Jack laughed.

"Oh, out of bounds!" the Doctor cried, exasperated.

"…unless the new you prefers something in an XY configuration?" Jack grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

The Doctor dropped his head onto his arms and closed his eyes. "Oh, for pity's sake," he groaned. "How have you not contracted every disease in the universe by now?"

"Clean living," Jack answered. The Doctor snorted.

"C'mon, I want you to meet my people," Jack said. "You're a bit of a legend, you know."

"A legend? Oh, I couldn't," the Doctor protested with false modesty. "Who'd look after Martha?"

"I'll get Owen to watch her. He's a doctor," Jack said.

"Well, I suppose…a quick pop out should be fine. She'll be out for a while anyways," the Doctor conceded. "Let's go meet this team of yours."

Jack grinned and clapped him on the back. "Alright!"

* * *

.

_Author's Note: Thanks to all the people who have left reviews so far: ElleThom, sweetgirl23, sadhappygirl, SenatorSolo, WhoNewbie, and angnay. Your encouragement is like feeding chocolate to my imagination._


	5. Pent

Zildafontahexazist

By SheDreamsOfWorlds

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Chapter 5

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"Oh, I like this," the Doctor said as the sidewalk shifted and carried them down into the cavernous Torchwood hub. "It's very 'secret clubhouse.' What have you got under there?" Quick as a blink, the Doctor was on his knees, leaning over to peer under the lift. "Ah-ha! I love a good hydraulic system!" came his muffled voice.

Jack grabbed the Doctor before he tumbled over the side. "C'mon, Doctor, it's a long fall."

"Oh, quite right!" The Doctor stood and brushed off his suit. "I'm liable to get my head squashed, staring too long."

Jack grimaced at the image. Below, he saw heads turn with interest at the unexpected sight of a visitor in the hub. Jack smiled at his team reassuringly. The Doctor was looking around with fascination at the bits of alien tech littered about. "Welcome to Torchwood," Jack said proudly.

The Doctor gave him a sharp look. "Is this intended to be a trap?"

Jack let out a short laugh. "The Torchwood you knew; its days are over. Their methods were unspeakable, but the mission was valid. No, this Torchwood is mine. You're a legend here."

"Not Enemy Number One anymore?" the Doctor asked absently as he stepped off the lift. He was immediately drawn to the glowing column in the center of the room. He put on his glasses and examined the mechanism. "What have we here…"

Jack cleared his throat and the Doctor straightened up. "Quite right; here to meet the team." He sauntered over to Owen and peered closely into his eyes. Owen jerked his head back and looked questioningly at Jack.

"This is Dr. Owen Harper. Jack said. "Owen, meet the Doctor."

"_The_ Doctor?" Owen asked, trying not to look impressed. "This is Enemy Number One?"

"Not anymore," Jack corrected pointedly, but the Doctor had moved on. His attention was now fixed on their pretty Japanese tech expert. "And this is Toshiko Sato, technological genius. Tosh, the Doctor."

Tosh smiled. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Ianto Jones, administrative support."

"Gwen Cooper, investigator."

Once introductions were made all around, Jack said, "The Doctor's got a friend who needs looking after, if you could stay with her while I show the Doctor around…" Jack was about to say 'Owen' when he saw the Doctor give a sharp shake of his head.

"Toshiko," the Doctor cut in. Tosh jumped in surprise and Jack gave him a questioning look, which he ignored. "Mind a bit of babysitting?"

"Babysitting what, exactly?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh, Martha's quite human. She's just…incapacitated at the moment…On my space ship," he added.

Tosh looked to Jack to see if the Doctor was putting her on, but Jack smiled, "It's quite the honor. He doesn't let just anyone aboard his TARDIS."

Tosh allowed herself to be ushered to the TARDIS with a sense of awe.

* * *

Back in the hub, Jack gave the Doctor the grand tour. There were several instances where the Doctor was tempted to destroy dangerous alien technology, but Jack stopped him.

"It's a big, bad universe out there, Doctor. You have to let the human race grow up," Jack said. "It's bound to happen, and better to start here and now, with me, than later in the hands of some idiot General that doesn't know a Hlefl Pleasure Cruiser from a Slarnian Battle Ship." The Doctor had grudgingly relented at that.

"So what was that business with Owen?" Jack asked, rubbing the back of his neck absently, trying to dissipate some of the heat he felt prickling all along his back. "I thought you wanted a doctor with your friend."

The Doctor gave him a considering look. "I'd watch out for that one," was all he'd say. "Now that Toshiko, she's got a good heart. She'll do fine."

They were just getting into the ethics of the holding cells when an alarm sounded.

"That's the rift alarm," Jack explained, hurrying back to the hub. "Spikes in activity usually mean something's come through. What've we got?"

"Looks like Weevils," Gwen answered.

"Care to join us?" Jack asked with a grin as he loaded up on extra ammo.

"You know I'm not one much for guns," the Doctor said with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, we've got a spray for the Weevils. Knocks 'em right out," Jack replied. "The Webley's just for back up. C'mon, you know you're curious to see how us lowly Neanderthals do it."

"Well…" The Doctor smiled.

* * *

Aboard the TARDIS, Tosh could barely contain her joy at finding herself aboard a genuine spaceship. The only thing that kept her from cheering aloud was the fear that the ship had some sort of recording system and she'd make a fool of herself in front of the first friendly alien she'd ever met. She settled for poking around the infirmary instead and wishing Jack hadn't made her leave her handheld computer in the hub. She'd give her left ovary to analyze the equipment around her.

The woman on the cot, Martha, had barely stirred since Tosh had arrived. Tosh was no medic anyways. She didn't know what she was supposed to do if the poor woman actually needed medical help. There was no recognizable first aid kit to be seen. Tosh had checked the ice packs on Martha's knee and face, and the swelling had gone down noticeably since she'd arrived, though she was still black and blue and wouldn't be running any time soon.

So Tosh was basically left cooling her heels with nothing to do. She picked up a battered wicker canister and peered inside curiously. "Chocolate donuts," she muttered to herself. "At least they left me snacks." She set the canister down. "Still, a real live _functioning_ spaceship. Not like the wrecks we usually see…"

Tosh took a step out the door and peered down the hall. The copper walls were studded with doors and passageways until they curved out of sight. The door just across the hall from the infirmary was open an inch. Tosh opened the door carefully and peeked inside. 'So even aliens use the bathroom,' she thought. 'Unless it's just for his guests…' Tosh put the door back how she'd found it and checked on Martha again. She was still out.

Tosh turned the handle on the next door and cautiously pushed it open. She was greeted with a howling blackness. She slammed the door shut and pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding. After a moment, she dashed back into the infirmary and shut the door. If it'd had a lock, she'd have bolted it shut. As it was, she had to resist the urge to barricade the door against the darkness she'd seen.

Tosh grabbed a donut and pulled a stool up next to Martha, suddenly glad for the unconscious woman's presence.

* * *

The Doctor gripped his seat as the Torchwood SUV careened around a corner. "It's like travelling in the TARDIS!" he said. "Comfier seats, though! I thought it was nice once I zip tied the foam padding to the rails, but this is quite posh! Imagine, time travel with seats!"

"You'd never manage to work all six panels from a chair," Jack pointed out as they turned a sharp corner and went up on two wheels. The SUV landed back on four wheels with a thump. "Ianto, you got a lock on those readings yet?"

"Looks like it's just two Weevils, and they're splitting up," Ianto answered.

"Ok, Gwen and Owen, you take the North, Ianto take the coms, and Doctor, you're with me," Jack ordered as the SUV skidded to a halt in a warehouse district. "You know the drill: in and out, don't take any unnecessary risks. Let's get them before they hit the sewers."

They hopped out and the Doctor followed Jack to the South. The Weevil they were after came into sight as they rounded a corner and they began running in earnest. They chased it until it disappeared through a hole in the tin sheeting of a derelict warehouse. They squeezed through after it, but there was no sign of it.

Jack smacked the side of his scanner. "Darn things are reliable as a politician," he said in disgust. He shoved it into his coat pocket with a shaking hand. "Looks like we're going to have to find our Weevil the old fashioned way."

"You call them Weevils but that looked like one of the beasts from the Plairan Caves," the Doctor said.

"I know," Jack said. "My team doesn't know I'm from the 51st; that I've been up there." He pointed to the sky. "So I call them Weevils. Sounds nice and Earthy." He squinted as light seemed to fill his vision. His whole body had begun shaking uncontrollably.

The Doctor turned with concern. "Jack?"

* * *

.

_Author's Note: I hadn't really intended to make this a Torchwood crossover, but I had to pick up my favorite Captain, so I got stuck with a slow chapter to introduce them. Jack's worth it though! Once again, thanks to those who left reviews: sadhappygirl, SenatorSolo, angnay, WhoNewbie, and ElleThom. :D_


	6. Hex

Zildafontahexazist

By SheDreamsOfWorlds

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Chapter 6

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Martha awoke to silence. She recognized the organic copper ceiling of the TARDIS infirmary, and the ache in her body told her their misadventure after Zildafontahexazist had been no bad dream. She slowly pulled herself upright and put a hand to her throbbing head. There was no sign of the Doctor, but a figure against the wall caught her eye.

"Hey," she rasped out. "You all right there?" There was no response. Martha cautiously swung her legs over the side of the cot and took a closer look. An Asian woman sat on the ground, her eyes blank and staring. "My name's Martha, and I'm a doctor. Can you tell me your name?"

The woman didn't respond, but Martha hadn't really expected her to. Martha swallowed a groan as she used the counter to pull herself up onto her good leg. She opened a drawer and pulled out a stethoscope and penlight. Then she carefully lowered herself to the ground next to the woman.

"I'm just going to check you over. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you," Martha assured her, hoping the woman understood her. Martha felt the woman's pulse, which was thankfully strong if a bit fast. She shone the light briefly in her eyes but found no sign of concussion. Then she listened to the woman's heart and lungs, which seemed to be functioning fine.

"Well you appear healthy, aside from having no one home," Martha said. "I wish I knew how to use half this equipment. I can't tell if you've been blasted by some alien freeze-ray, drugged, or possessed by some body-snatching alien." Martha looked at the woman then assessed the distance to the cot. "I'm sorry; I don't think I can get you up there."

"Now I'm going to reach into your pocket, see if you have any ID," Martha said. "_Please_ don't be possessed." She cautiously searched the pockets of the woman's maroon leather jacket and was rewarded with a mobile and wallet.

"Sato, Toshiko. Specialist, Torchwood. Looks official, but I've never heard of it." She set the wallet on the woman's lap and something caught her eye. Martha lifted the woman's hand and was horrified to see a smudge of chocolate on her fingers.

"You have got to be kidding me," Martha said with dread. She craned her neck back and saw the wicker canister still sitting on the counter. "Doctor!" She could strangle him. Why hadn't he thrown the blasted things away? Martha dragged herself back up to stand on one leg and grabbed the canister. She peered inside and groaned. There appeared to be three left inside, but she couldn't remember how many there'd been to begin with. Her head felt all fuzzy.

She stood with her hands on the counter and her head bowed. The canister wasn't that big. Certainly there couldn't have been more than six? Miss Sato had obviously eaten one, which left up to two more people out there who were under the influence of Phorillian Pollen. Martha shuffled over to the scanner display. It still held the information on Phorillian Pollen's effects on Gallifreyans. She typed in a few commands and the display informed her that the effects on humans included paranoia, hallucinations, rage, dizziness, and seizures. Just what she wanted to hear when her head was pounding, her knee was throbbing, and she could barely see out of one eye. She set the fabricator to make three doses of anti-toxin for humans.

Martha had a fifteen minute wait until the fabricator completed its cycle, but what then? Even assuming the man who had barged aboard the TARDIS had consumed the missing pastries, she had no idea where to find him or the Doctor. 'Come _on_, don't be such a gumby,' Martha mentally berated herself. '_Think!_'

Martha flipped open Miss Sato's phone and scrolled through her contacts. It was a fairly short list and most appeared to be family members. Martha doubted her family knew their little Toshiko was mixed up with aliens, so she scrolled back up to the first of the few European names on the list.

"Okay, Gwen Cooper, I hope you can help me find the Doctor," Martha said as she hit 'send.' The phone rang twice, then went to voice mail. Martha hung up without leaving a message and scrolled to the next contact. "Jack Harkness, you're up," she said and hit 'send.' Martha vaguely remembered the Doctor calling the man who'd boarded the TARDIS 'Jack.' She could only hope it was the same man. It turned out not to matter because the call went to voicemail as well. Martha moved on to Owen Harper, but had no luck.

"What, is everyone at a convention or something? I'm going to be attempting Japanese in a minute if this last one's a duffer! _C'mon_ Ianto Jones, do our family name proud."

The phone rang once and a cool voice answered, "Tosh, how's life on Mars?"

Martha cleared her throat. "I'm looking for the Doctor," she rasped out.

"Tosh, is that you? What's happened?" Ianto's voice took on a note of urgency.

"This isn't Tosh…" Martha began.

"Who are you and how did you get her phone," Ianto broke in. "I'll have you know that if anything has happened to Toshiko, there will be consequences."

"I haven't done anything to her," Martha said with frustration. "Toshiko has accidently ingested a toxin and appears catatonic. Now listen closely before I lose my voice. My name is Martha Jones, and I travel with the Doctor. If you know where he is or how to contact him, then it is vital that you do so, right now."

"Torchwood does not take kindly to threats, Martha Jones. Release Toshiko at once," Ianto threatened.

"Did you hear a word I said?" Martha asked. "I said '_accidently_' ingested a toxin. I'm working on the anti-toxin right now, but if you know an American named Jack who wears some sort of long military coat, then it's possible he's ingested the toxin as well. Now quit wasting my time and call him!"

There was a bit of silence and then Ianto said in his most professional telephone voice, "Hold please."

Martha heard the line click over and gave Toshiko's phone a dirty look. "He'd better be calling," she muttered. Martha grabbed a roll of wide tape and began tightly binding up her knee over her jeans as she waited. The stiff fabric supported by tape made a decent makeshift support brace. She was just pulling the finished anti-toxin out of the fabricator when she heard the phone line click back over.

"They're out in the field and neither Jack nor the Doctor are responding. I've sent the other two members of our team to search for them, but Jack's locator has gone off line," Ianto informed her.

"The anti-toxin just finished and I'm dosing your friend right now, but I don't know how long until it takes effect," Martha said. She injected the anti-toxin into the side of Toshiko's neck and watched as her eyes drifted shut. Her voice was worn down to a hoarse whisper. "She'll be safe aboard the TARDIS. Give me your location and I'll meet you there."

Ianto gave her the address and then started to ask, "But how will you…"

"They've got cabs in bloody Cardiff, don't they?" she growled and hung up.

* * *

Jack pointed his Webley at the Doctor with a shaking hand. "You _knew_ and you didn't even bother to tell me. I got married, had _children_, and had to watch them grow old and die. But my wife never got that opportunity. Never even saw our children to adulthood. No, she was murdered long before that." Jack's eyes took on a far off look and he fell silent, the tip of his gun dipping slightly.

The Doctor took the opportunity to edge closer to Gwen and Owen. He could detect the slight rise and fall of their chests. Jack had hit them with his stun gun before they'd even realized he wasn't in his right mind and they'd been unconscious ever since.

Jack woke from his reverie then and aimed his Webley at the Doctor with renewed vigor. "They came when I was at work," he said with anguish. "We didn't even have much to take, but times were hard during the industrial revolution. So they took what they wanted and left her to bleed on the floor."

The Doctor saw movement behind Jack and fought to keep from looking and bringing attention to it. The shadow resolved into the familiar form of his companion and dear friend, Martha. Her knee was taped up and he saw that she was limping badly. She carried an injection gun in her hand.

Jack was openly weeping now. "She was so good; so strong. She fought them. My beautiful wife with her face swollen unrecognizable. She couldn't even say goodbye. They'd strangled her to keep her silent. I never even heard her sweet voice, one last time."

There was a moment when Jack's eyes left the past and the Doctor knew that he was suddenly very much in the present. The Doctor felt himself rooted to the spot, pierced by Jack's gaze.

"Since when do the Judoon have five fingers, Doctor? You've crossed a line you're never crossing again." The Doctor saw Jack's finger tighten on the trigger. He could do any number of things to avoid getting shot in the next moment, but he just closed his eyes. Jack was right. After what he'd done to Martha he deserved to die, permanently. Regeneration was a privilege he no longer deserved.

The shot never came. Instead there was the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. The Doctor opened his eyes in time to catch Martha as she staggered and keep her from joining Jack on the ground. He held her gently for a moment, mindful of her injuries. Then they both looked around them at the fallen Torchwood team.

"Looks like we won," Martha joked quietly.

"Yes, I don't think we'll be invited to the company Christmas party." The Doctor scratched his head. "Now what do we do with them?"

"Ianto's still conscious," Martha volunteered.

The Doctor gave a quiet laugh. "Well we can't have _that_."

"I've still got one dose left," Martha said. "We could still knock him out too. You know, so he doesn't feel left out."

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor agreed. Then he sighed deeply. "I suppose we'd better have him bring the car around. There's still 'Weevils' lurking about."

With the help of Ianto, the Doctor loaded the three unconscious team members into the SUV. They headed back to the hub with a brief stop at the TARDIS to collect Toshiko.

* * *

Everyone but Toshiko stood in the infirmary and gazed at the innocuous-looking pastries that had brought them so much grief. After awakening from her hallucination that she was back in prison, she'd decided to take a leave of absence and visit her mother; make sure she was okay.

In a rare show of remorse, the Doctor had allowed the Torchwood team into his TARDIS to make up for knocking them all out. They'd all been suitably awed, which made him puff with a bit of pride. He did love his TARDIS.

"We fight dangers most people can't even imagine, and we get taken out by a bit of chocolate," Owen shook his head with disgust.

"But what I don't understand is, why would anyone want to put such a dangerous drug into pastries?" Gwen asked.

"Increased appetite and libido, euphoria. Looks like someone's trying to increase sales," Martha commented.

"Well, I've got a bone to pick with whoever spiked those donuts," Jack said.

"Then come with us," Martha invited impulsively. The Doctor looked at her questioningly but she avoided looking him in the eye.

"Doctor?" Jack asked.

The Doctor forced himself to put on his best smile. "Looks like we've got pastries to fight!"

_The end…for now._

* * *

_._

_Author's note: __As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: WhoNewbie, sweetgirl23, barbara87413, SenatorSolo, angnay, ElleThom, and sadhappygirl. _

_Be on the lookout for our heroes' next adventure, _**The Caretaker**_, which follows hard on the heels of this episode:_

What does it mean to be a Caretaker? After their troubles from Zildafontahexazist, all they wanted was some time to recover in peace, but trouble follows the TARDIS like a dark cloud.


End file.
